Who Are These Everyday Heroes? I was in secondary school, senior four, when I first saw epilepsy up close. It was during a literature class. Suddenly, there was chaos, tables crashing, chairs scraping, and kids bolting for the door. A girl named Sheila had fallen, shaking uncontrollably. Everyone ran, including me. But as I fled, a heavy feeling tugged at my heart, like I was abandoning someone who needed help. I didn’t know why it hit me so hard. The same day, I told my dad
